In Which
by Loki'sArmyOfTwo
Summary: In which Thor is whipped, Steve follows protocol, Tony is a good samaritan, and Loki just wants to be left alone.


**So hey! I finally finished this story; it's been sitting around for way to long begging me to finish it. If you've read our profile, you'll know aaaaall about it. So enjoy. I hope you like it.**  
**This was originally going to be multi-chaptered, but it just became a long one-shot. Post-Thor, Pre-Avengers, which never happened. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

He could hear a deep, familiar voice.

"I think there's a person there."

The pouring rain muffled the sound of footsteps, and he had no energy with which to open his eyes. "Thor; come on. It's raining and I just want to get home."

Had Loki had the capacity, he would have flinched. How was Thor here? Where was 'here', anyway? Should there be an encounter between him and Thor, he would be ill prepared. All that remained of his magic was doing what it could to hold his broken and battered body together. His mind was shattered and weak, and he knew that his silver tongue would be heaver than lead should he attempt to engage in a battle of wits.

"But there's someone there." His voice was insistent. If Thor was anything, it was persistent. He would attempt to get his way. He would probably get it, too. He was the golden boy who could do know wrong.

His mental griping was interrupted by the voice of Thor's companion. Female, it would seem. "There's no one there, Thor. Let's just go home." Her voice was stern. She would accept no answer but yes.

"But Jane…" His voice was whiny and petulant, and Loki saw Thor in his mind's eye, his eyes wide and pleading as his expression pleaded with the woman. He had used that look many times in the past to escape trouble; the blame getting pinned on the Loki, the Trickster.

Loki frowned slightly, the pain of moving his brow not registering amidst that that was already coursing through his body. Jane… Was that not the name of Thor's Midgardian female? He was on Midgard then, amongst the humans that Thor had come to love so strongly. Loki couldn't bring himself to feel anything, his emotions fractured as they were…

"No, Thor. There's no one there." Loki could hear footsteps crunching on what he presumed to be gravel nearby. "Come on."

Loki's mental functions paused as he awaited Thor's response.

"Very well. I hope you are correct, Jane." He heard the pair move away.

Has he been capable of it, Loki would have smirked. The mortal had Thor wrapped around her little finger.

* * *

Loki didn't know how much time had passed before he finally began to gain sensation in his body other than the excruciating pain of his body moving his shattered bones into place, knitting them together. The torrential rain falling from the sky began to feel like thick, leaden needles against his skin, each impact sending miniscule shockwaves of pain to his brain. He fought to stay conscious, still attempting to find a way to breathe such that it ensured he didn't inhale water into his damaged lungs.

As feeling returned to his body, he began to feel the icy water pooling around him in the crater that had formed around his broken form, trembling as he shivered. He was sure that if he were to open his eyes the sky would be dark with clouds. His mind idly wondering what the time was, how long he had been falling for. That train of thought was abruptly derailed as he tipped his head to the side in an attempt to clear it.

The Trickster gasped as the movement almost caused him to black out, aware that the loss of consciousness would spell certain death. His mouth snapped shut abruptly as he felt the water from the surrounding pool and rain begin to pour into the open crevasse, closed mouth coughs racking his body as it fought to expel the water that had newly entered his lungs. Instinct overruled his common sense as his body jerked upright, curling over his stomach, his mouth open as he coughed violently, a mop of hair clinging to his face as water poured from his mouth. Loki became aware of a dangerous pain, his eyes still tightly shut against the pain, almost grateful for the distracting coughs.

He leant back slightly, shuffling to the lip of the indent, searching blindly for a ledge to support him while moving as little as he could. The fog enclosing his brain was once again numbing him to his own pain. He felt a weight against his back and slumped against it, once more almost horizontal, fighting for breath and against the impending loss of consciousness. His head rested on the ground, his body trembling violently as he attempted not to move.

He felt one of vertebrae snap into place, clenching his broken jaw to prevent himself from screaming as his spinal cords writhed to fit it in.

He felt his teeth screech against each other as his jaw adjusted its position slightly, the sound ringing through the ever-thickening fog within his brain.

The Liesmith smirked ruefully to himself.

'How ironic' he mused. 'I survive my fall from the Bifrost only to die as my own magic attempts to heal me. It seems giving up doesn't always work out as expected'

He coughed involuntarily once more, his body twitching violently as a myriad of colours sparked fiercely beneath his eyelids.

'Just like the Bifrost.' He thought, his mind slipping into an infinite chasm of grey fog.

* * *

Steve was wondering why he'd decided to go for a walk now, of all times. The sun had been shining brightly in the sky earlier as the sun was setting. It was a beautiful time of day. So he'd grabbed the infernal phone that Stark had pressed on him when he'd first joined the team, slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans, and walked out the front door.

He scowled at the ground, thankful that he'd at least thought to wear a jacket with a hood now that the rain was pouring down. It was just so… illogical! The sun had been so beautiful, and though the evening had been cool, there was a soft warmth emanating from the descending orb. And now there was this heinous downpour, the rain lashing his face, plastering his hair to his scalp. The sky had blackened within a matter of minutes, completely blotting out the sun. The moment he had seen the clouds begin to darken, he had turned around and begun to head back to the mansion. But he'd barely made any progress back, and he couldn't see exceptionally far in front of him.

He reached a park that he had passed on his walk about five minutes ago. It felt like it had taken him much longer to reach there again, curled up around his body to prevent the stinging wind from sucking away his warmth. A bench caught his eye, and he wasn't entirely sure why, though, as it seemed a normal bench in every respect. And then he registered the destruction behind it.

The grass was buckled and twisted, the ground beneath it showing, becoming mud under the downpour. Shrubs were strewn across the ground, flung away from the epicenter of the damage. Steve's eyes followed the cracks on the ground in front of him until they reached a crater, already full of water, squinting as he saw a dark shape propped up against the side of it. He frowned, stepping closer.

A gasp escaped his lips as he realized that the figure was a person, and he sprinted the last few meters to reach the man.

"Sir? Sir are you okay?" Steve had to shout to hear himself over the sound of rain battering on the man's… was that a _helmet_? The Captain reached over and gently removed it from the man's head; relieved to see his eyelids flutter softly. He put the horned helmet next to him, noting the damage to him. He was at the edge of the crater, his head just cresting the lip of it, nose and mouth just out of the pooling water. He was breathing shallowly, not inhaling any water. He had a few cuts on him, and Steve could see his arm was at a strange angle, surely broken.

His eyes widened as the man tensed, green sparks running down his arm. Steve heard a crack as the limb reshaped itself, now sitting at a normal angle, a whimper emanating from the man's body, and he knew that the arm wasn't broken any more. And that was what put the clues together.

The horned helmet should have been clue enough, Thor would go on about it for ages on end, but the Captain had been worrying about the man's wellbeing. It was the sparks that did it. Until Thor had introduced them to Mjolnir, Steve had refused to believe that his brother could do magic, and even afterwards he was highly skeptical. But the mending of the bone did it. This was _Loki_, Thor's crazy brother who had as good as committed suicide. Thor had been sure he was dead, but hadn't given up the hope that he just _might_ be alive. He'd gone on and on about how Heimdall, some magical gatekeeper, hadn't been able to find him. And now here he was. Battered, weak, unconscious, and healing from what could only have been a fall from the sky.

Steve knew he couldn't call Thor; he'd panic. There was not protocol for what would happen if Loki turned up. There was one for reporting in people from other worlds, planets, and the like. It was pretty much 'Call Fury before they wreak havoc on the world'.

So Captain America reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He stood up and ran to the streetlight by the bench, twisting the device in his hands. There was a button; he _knew_ there was a button, to turn it on. But the rain made it difficult to see, and the phone was just so slippery. He scowled as his finger found a ridge on the side, and he pressed it, willing the screen to light up. And nothing happened. So with one last glance at the unconscious Loki, he ran off to try and find someone, _anyone_, to show him how to use the phone. Because there was no chance that Steve wasn't going to follow protocol.

* * *

"I mean seriously, Jarvis, who would send a man in a tin suit flying around in the midst of a thunderstorm? With lightning?" The words were a complaint, but not quite a whine. Tony Stark was, in truth, quite glad to be out of the house. He was feeling stifled inside, and hadn't been out flying in some time.

_I believe that would be Fury, sir. Your boss_. The A.I's voice responded smoothly to his question, the British accent tinted with a faint hint of amusement. Tony smirked, narrowing his eyes as he tried to see through the downpour.

"Yes but _why_, Jarvis. It's just a thunderstorm. Granted it came out of nowhere, and the sky was completely clear beforehand, and it's not thunderstorm season, but it's _just a thunderstorm_."

_I believe, sir, that you just answered your own question_. Tony was sure that Jarvis sounded… resigned almost.

"Why, you have my own dry humor, Jarvis. However did I manage to design you?"

The A.I was silent; instead Fury's voice resonated through his helmet. "Keep your eyes peeled, Stark."

"For what?" Was his muttered response, before he told Jarvis to cut the director off. "I have no desire for him to watch my every movement."

He continued flying, slowly and cautiously. He didn't especially want to run into any trees. Speaking of trees…

He frowned as he glanced down. By the formation of the trees he was at a park, but something was wrong with them. God knows he's flown over enough parks to know how the designers of them planted their trees. He flew lower. Unless the council, or whoever planted those things had changed the way they set out their parks, something was wrong…

And so, because he was Tony Stark, Iron Man, Avenger, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, genius, if only occasionally, generally infuriatingly nosy, and because he'd been ordered to, he went to investigate.

As Tony flew lower, his surprise and amazement grew. Behind his mask, his eyes grew wide as he took in the damage to the park. Trees were bent over, radiating from the epicentre of what seemed to have been an explosion. The only explanation for the crater that Tony's stunned brain could come up with was a meteorite falling to Earth. His logical brain, however, dismissed this possibility, as a meteorite on a collision course with the planet, no matter how small, would have been widely broadcasted.

As he flew lower still, towards the centre of the collision, his brow furrowed.

"Jarvis, what can you tell me?" He suspected… but couldn't be sure.

"I'm currently running scans, sir. The weather is affecting my systems. However, I do believe that there is a person down there. The thermal imaging scans show a low heat emitting from a central area. It appears to be in the shape of a human, but I could be wrong, sir."

Tony just nodded his head in response to the confirmation of his suspicions.

"They don't appear to be moving, sir. If it is a person, they are lying down, immobile."

Tony's eyes widened at the implications of this. Potentially, a civilian was hurt, and if they remained in that position, they would probably drown. Or something.

And even if whatever was down there wasn't a living being, it was still interesting.

Tony's vision was still blurred as the rain poured down, but as he landed, he could make out a dark shape lying in what seemed to be a crater. He lifted his mask, allowing it to act as a sort of umbrella for his face.

He ignored the water sluicing off his headpiece as he walked towards the edge of the hole. He sucked in his breath as he saw the figure sprawled against the edge of the crater.

His hair was pitch black, longer than shoulder length, and plastered to his scalp. His face was clenched in unconscious pain, his breathing laboured. His clothes were tattered and ripped, parts of them barely hanging on at all, the metal and leather dangling off his body in pieces.

Tony lifted his eyes briefly to see a glint of gold on the opposite side of the crater. He leapt over the gap, kneeling down to pick up a horned helmet. His eyes widened once more as he raised his head in time to see a green spark travel down the man's body.

He heard a bone snap, and saw the water in the ditch move, and heard a mewl of pain erupt from the unconscious man's mouth.

"Sir, I do believe-"

"I know Jarvis." Tony interrupted. "I know."

He knelt down, refusing to admit that the sound of pain had tugged on his heartstrings, and softly exhaled. He knew that what he was about to do wasn't strictly against orders. But he certainly wasn't following them, either.

"Loki," He breathed. "Man you're messed up"

He knelt beside the broken-but-slowly-healing body of Thor's brother-but-not, and gently slid his arms beneath him. His left arm reached beneath the water slowly as he slid it beneath the god's knees. His right arm just as slowly reached beneath the Liesmith's arms, behind his back, still holding the golden helmet.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he stood up, the unconscious Trickster's body lying limply in his arms.

"Jarvis? Can I fly without my arms? If not, how far away from home are we?"

"I do believe it would be nigh impossible for you to fly with the amount of control needed without your arms. You are currently approximately seven minutes away from home. Mr Rogers went out for a walk, and has still not returned, so there is no one currently inhabiting the mansion."

"Thanks, Jarvis. I need the fastest route back. Map, please."

"Certainly, sir."

Tony flipped down his headpiece, and blinked as the map showed itself.

And began walking.

* * *

Steve had knocked on doors until someone had finally responded. After apologising profusely for disturbing them, he asked them to please show him how to use his phone.

Their eyes had, of course, widened as they realised who was at their doorstep. They had offered him drinks, clothes, anything.

All of which he had graciously declined. All he had wanted was for them to show him how to turn on, or unlock, this stupid phone.

And they had simply pushed a button, and slid a finger across the screen. Despite the faint blush that covered his cheeks, he thanked them profusely, spent a minutes or so fiddling with the blasted technology to call Fury, and ran back out the door.

"What is it, Rogers?"

Steve should have known that Fury would answer right away. After all, this was the number he'd given them to call in, ahem, 'emergencies'. There had been some issues involving Fury yelling at Tony that "YOU MAKING BANNER HULK OUT, DOES NOT CLASSIFY AN EMERGENCY! YOU CAUSED IT, NOW DEAL WITH IT!"

This had lead to a sulking Tony, a slightly less green Bruce Banner, and the deleting of the emergency number from Tony's phone. Steve knew that Jarvis kept it on record, though. Just in case.

"I'd like to report Loki, sir."

There was a silence from Fury's end of the line.

"What?" The word was flat; a tone that Steve knew could potentially mean harm to something in the vicinity. Generally it was whatever Tony happened to be near at the time.

"The cause of the storm is, I believe, Loki. Or rather, his falling to Earth. I found him in a crater caused by his impact in a park nearby. He's bruised and battered, but his magic is slowly healing him."

"And how is he now, Rogers?"

Steve hesitated.

"Well sir. When I left him, he was unconscious."

He braced himself for the potential explosion from Fury as he continued walking to the site of Loki's collision. Fast.

"You left him, Rogers?"

Again, Fury's voice was flat, silky, dangerous. Steve flinched.

"Yes sir, I did. I had to find someone to help me work the phone."

There was an exhalation of breath from the other end of the line. A frustrated sigh.

"Well get back there, Rogers."

Steve froze.

"I am sir."

There was one thought going through his mind as he saw rapidly disappearing indents deep in the mud beside the crater.

"What is it, Rogers?"

Fury had recognized the terror in his words; the apprehension. Steve turned around and began walking rapidly towards the mansion he had left earlier that day.

"He's gone, sir. And I think I know where."

Steve hung up.

_Tony, you idiot. Why?_

* * *

"Don't let anyone in, Jarvis. Not even Steve. Not even Fury."

"Yes sir."

His workshop was safe. The glass windows were covered in a dark film, so no one would be able to see through. His couch was a bed, currently uninhabited. Tony had gently walked Loki to the bathroom, and slowly lowered him into the warm bath that Jarvis had begun preparing on the way home.

Tony had watched in horrified fascination as, throughout the walk, Loki's core body temperature had dropped ever lower. It had encouraged him to walk faster. He was infinitely grateful that no one was outside to stare at him.

"Sir, Mr Rogers just entered the mansion. He appears to be calling for you."

Tony swore, rapidly taking the suit off.

"Don't let him in, Jarvis."

"He has just asked me where you are. It is apparent that he knows about Loki, and is sure that you removed him from the park."

Tony frowned, and swore again.

"I don't care. Tell him I'm busy or something. I have an injure god to take care of."

He hurried towards the bath, grabbing soap and facecloths, bandages and antiseptic. Anything else that he needed, he could grab later.

"Give me a thermal image. Constant updates. I need to see his temperature."

"Certainly, sir," came the A.I's ever calm voice.

Tony knelt beside the bathtub, gently propping Loki's head up against the edge of it, placing a few towels beneath his head.

"You sure fell a long way," Tony began speaking softly. "And for a long time. Caused a lot of damage, too. I think Thor and I were the only ones who hoped you weren't dead. Thor, because he's your brother no matter what and me because you interest me."

He grabbed the washcloth, put some antiseptic on it, and gently began dabbing at Loki's face, at the cuts and bruises.

"You have father issues, like me. We wanted his approval, but were never good enough. There was always something in the way. The others thought you'd probably go on a mass-murdering rampage, but honestly, that would just make your father even more disappointed."

Tony fell silent, unsure of what he was saying.

"I'll be back in a sec. I just need to grab something."

* * *

Loki had been awake since he had been placed into the bathtub by gentle hands. He had been left alone for a short period of time, aware of voices outside. He was too weary to open his eyes. To weary to sleep, but to weary to pretend to be asleep. So he just lay there.

His magic had stopped healing him, dealing with the life-threatening injuries, and some of the major hindrances, like broken limbs, but stopping before it was exhausted.

The water was warm though; not too hot, not too cold. He wouldn't have objected to a warmer temperature, but it was nice. Relaxing.

He heard soft footsteps, a clatter of items on a tile floor, felt his head being lifted, something soft placed beneath his head.

And the mortal began talking to him. His voice was nice; rough and deep. Soothing, but wounded. Soft, but hurt. It was almost as if he was hurt by Loki's pain.

He mentioned Thor at one stage, but Loki didn't have the energy for an emotional response. Instead, when the mortal got up to leave, Loki mulled over his words.

It was true. Odin would be disappointed if he went on a rampage. And it was true that he wanted his approval. Thor… Loki knew that it would be a long time before it stopped hurting to think about him, but they'd spent centuries together. That is not something that can be easily vanquished in three days. Plus however long it had taken him to fall.

He tried to force his eyes open as he heard to mortal return. He wanted to see his face. Because no matter how much scorn he held for them, this man had saved him.

He felt his eyelids flutter briefly, before realising that it required just too much energy.

"You're awake." The mortal almost sounded relieved. "Good. Here. I'm going to help you drink this."

Something within Loki flinched. This would be humiliating. Something warm was pressed to his lips, which he parted slightly.

The cup was slowly tipped up, and he felt rich, thick, warm chocolate running down his throat as he swallowed.

The cup was pulled back, and Loki let out a slight moan of protest. A warm, rich laugh was his response.

"We can't have you drinking too much. Hot chocolate is always the best for when you're injured. Other than alcohol, but Thor said you aren't much of a drinker. I put some painkillers in there, but I'm not sure how your body will respond to them. Your biological makeup is very different to that of a human's. Well, Thor's is. I expect yours will be different in another way, considering you're not the same as Thor."

Loki flinched away from the words. Of course he wasn't. He was a monster, everything that parents told their children to fear.

"Sir, Mr Rogers is outside the door. He is demanding to be let it." The voice came from all around him, a soft accent, calm words, and a soothing speech.

A sigh came from beside him.

"He's not going to let up, is he? Well fine, let him in. As long as he doesn't upset my guest, it's fine."

Loki felt the washcloth on his face again, a slight sting accompanying it. He tried to force his eyes open again.

"No need to strain yourself, Loki. Just… Steve's one for order. He's probably annoyed that I didn't call it in that I found you. Fury's going to be furious."

Loki heard a smirk in the other man's voice as he as good as sang the end of his sentence. Loki felt the tip of his lips quirk up as his eyes sprung apart.

He felt, rather than saw, the other man flinch away as he tried to focus his eyes.

"Sorry about that, you just took me by surprise. I thought I told you not to strain yourself."

Loki blinked a few times, slowly and laboriously, before tilting his head to look at the man. He had a smirk across his face, but other than that, he showed no emotion. He was, Loki had to admit, pretty good-looking.

"I'm Tony, by the way. Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

Loki smirked, forcing words out of his throat. They sounded almost rough to his ear, but they made the other man, Tony, shift slightly, his smirk broadening.

"Egotistical, too."

"I can agree with-"

"TONY STARK!"

Loki flinched as the words erupted from the other room.

"Just what did you think you were doing bringing a… a fallen alien back to your house? Without calling it in! You didn't follow protocol, you don't even know if he's dangerous or not!"

The voice got closer and closer, as the source finally rounded the corner, revealing a drenched, well-muscled, good-looking man. With an irate expression directed completely at Tony.

Tony just grinned up at him, leaning towards Loki.

"That's Steve," He said in a conspiratorial whisper. "He's a stickler for the rules." He raised his voice again, talking to Steve once more as he dabbed at the scratches on Loki's shoulder.

"Look at him, Steve. He can barely move. He can't hurt a fly."

Loki scowled. "I am capable-"

He was cut off as the blonde man glared at him. "Be quiet. Don't strain yourself." He dropped to his knees beside Tony. What Loki had initially thought to be loathing, or anger at the god, turned out to be worry and care.

He was silent as the large man gently removed his top, conversing with Tony all the while, ignoring the grin on his face.

"You do realise I'm calling this into Fury, don't you?"

"You do realise you're just a big softie, don't you?"

There was an irate sigh from Steve.

"He's injured. I can't just _leave_ him. Especially not in your care."

Tony pressed his hand to his chest as if hurt, and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Steve.

"How many buckles do you need on this thing?"

A startled laugh forced itself from Loki as the blonde man sat back on his heels.

"Stuff it," he muttered, reaching his two hands to the leather on Loki's chest, looking up to meet his eyes. "I hope you're not too attached to this."

And ripped.

Loki watched wide-eyed as the leather on his chest was torn in two as if it was a piece of paper, unaware of Tony in the background, talking on the phone to an irate man, saying "If you want to talk to him, you talk to him here. He is too weak to be dragged to SHIELD headquarters."

And Loki's eyes slipped shut as a warm feeling overcame his body. He sighed, as drowsiness suddenly overtook his brain, and he plunged into the depths of sleep.

* * *

He awoke in a soft bed, in soft clothes, covering in warm blankets, and surrounded by people.

He gazed around, meeting everyone's eye, before they alighted on Tony.

"Who?" He managed to croak out. Tony just grinned, and nodded at the man on his left. Loki looked at him, and then looked away flinching as he took note of the eye patch. It reminded him too much of his father.

The man leaned forward in his chair.

"Look at me, Loki." The voice was forceful, brooking no nonsense. "I need to ask you some questions, and if you're deemed safe, you can stay. If not, you'll need to come with us."

Loki raised his eyes, and nodded slightly, feeling like a timid child again.

"Why are you here?" The first question took Loki by surprise.

"I fell." A glass of water was placed in his hands, and he drank it gratefully. When he next spoke, his voice was slightly less rough. "I didn't know where I would end up."

He didn't say why, or how. He didn't say the whole truth. But hey! He was the god of lies. However, his response seemed to be enough for the man on the seat, who nodded.

"Do you plan on causing harm to our planet in any way, shape or form?" This, too, took Loki by surprise.

"I had not planned on it. I do not plan on it, either. And…" Loki paused as he exhaled. Because no matter how much he would like to hurt his… Thor for accepting him, he would not. "I will not."

Again, the man nodded.

"What do you want?" At this, Loki looked up in shock. This question was so rarely asked, it was like someone had punched him in the stomach.

He took a few deep breaths to calm its roiling, before answering truthfully once more. He looked the man directly in his eye, and calmly stated, "To be left alone."

The other nodded, his face as emotionless as it had been throughout the entire conversation.

"Very good. I'll leave it to Stark to make introductions." He swept out the room, followed sedately by another.

And Loki looked at Tony Stark, and he looked back, calmly, and grinned.

"Nicholas Fury, director of SHIELD, super-secret organization, of which we are all a part of."

Loki frowned at the 'we'.

"You mean everyone in this room other than me?"

Tony nodded.

"Natasha Romanof, Clint Barton; spies, assassins, don't get on their bad side." He ducked as an arrow shot over his head, smirking as if it happened every day.

The woman stayed quiet, but the man smirked. "Don't try and kill us, don't touch my stuff, don't-"

"Explain rule later Barton, now shoo. Didn't you hear the man? He want's to be left alone." Tony made shooing motions with his hands as Natasha walked out the door, and Steve all but pushed the protesting Clint out.

"Bruce Banner is in the lab at the moment. He doesn't do well with people. Don't make him angry. Last time that happened, about half of the city was destroyed."

Loki paled. Midgard had a lot of large cities, and if this was one of them… He vowed to never anger the man.

"Your brother is also a part of the organisation." Loki flinched at the blasé way that Tony spoke about Thor. "But he doesn't know you're here. We haven't told him yet."

The Trickster let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Now, is there anything I can do for you?" The brunet looked like a hopeful puppy, but Rogers was already halfway out the door.

Loki sighed.

"Yes, Stark. Leave me alone." He watched as the other man deflated slightly.

"But," He continued, "After I emerge from my solitude," he hesitated, unsure of asking, unsure of this man, of this world, of everything. "Perhaps you could show me some of your Midgardian science?"

The other man burst out laughing, a sound of joy, but no mockery as he began walking towards the door.

"I like you, Loki. You're interesting. We'll be good friends."

He stopped at the doorway to flash a grin at the bed-ridden god.

"Of course I'll show you some science."

And he shut the door, leaving the room in silence, and giving Loki the solitude that he craved.

He could get used to it here. Just as long as, for the time being, they left him alone.

With a contented sigh, he leaned back, and fell, once more, into a gentle, dreamless sleep.

* * *

**So I hope you liked it.**

**Pretty please review, because I felt so detached from this that I have no idea how it is. My counterpart on this account will also be reading this for the first time, so I can't wait to know their response. :)**


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